


Where Does the Good Go?

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [36]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also not relevant, But that isn’t really relevant, Derek Deserves Nice Things, Derek is Alpha again, Editor Derek, F/M, FBI!Stiles, Friends to Lovers, Illusions of Smut, M/M, Mating Marks, Soft!Stiles, Song fic, Stiles deserves nice things, bed sharing, domestic sterek - Freeform, mutual crush, soft!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 02:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17931056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Stiles best intentions blow up in his face leaving him to move in with Derek at the loft. Taking care of each other, a song pops up on shuffle more often than not, letting Stiles face some of his insecurities, and gives him the push to say what he wants...





	Where Does the Good Go?

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I do not own any of the characters from Teen Wolf. I’m just borrowing them and putting them back where I found them.
> 
> Song: Where Does the Good Go  
> Artists: Tegan and Sara
> 
> Please don’t sue!

"You know what Derek? Fuck you. I'll go over to Tina's place right now and tell her all about...everything. Half my stuff is already there, so she’s going to find out eventually. Then we’ll see whose trying to hide what.”

Stiles turned on his heel and stormed off through the opening door of the loft, almost bowling Lydia over as she was raising her hand to knock. He didn’t slow down, and didn’t even acknowledge her. While ordinarily Lydia would have taken offence to that kind of treatment, the last few weeks Stiles had been more than a little testy. He was slowly moving his things in to Tina’s apartment, gathering his things from his father’s house and Derek’s loft, and the Pack had all asked him if he’d even broached the subject of the supernatural with her. She wasn’t the most approachable human in the world, and was a little...guarded...for want of a better phrase. 

While ordinarily they would wonder what it was that Stiles saw in her, it was evident with her sharp wit, and near encyclopedic knowledge of all things Marvel, DC, and law enforcement, that he found in Tina what he considered to be a kindred spirit. If only she wanted to actually spend time around his friends so they’d get a chance to bond. 

It all came to a head two nights ago when Derek showed up at the apartment complex, bleeding from a slash in his ribs from a Dearg-due. That in and of itself wasn’t too bad, but it went deep enough you could see his ribs and lung through the gap so he needed to lay low. He was just grateful she didn’t get her teeth in his neck. There was no way in hell he’d be able to make it to his loft on the other side of town. Gritting his teeth he hit the buzzer. Thankfully Stiles was the one that answered. Unfortunately, Tina walked into the kitchen as Stiles was patching him up and had a bit of an understandable freak out.

This was also when they realized that Stiles hadn’t QUITE told her the whole truth about what he got up to in his spare time. Derek, choosing to exercise the greater part of valour, hightailed it out of the apartment leaving Stiles to his fate. Not exactly brave, he readily would admit that, but it also wasn’t his job to explain to Stiles’ girlfriend about this entire mess they had going on. 

Coming to present, Derek simply nudged Stiles in the direction of coming clean, not necessarily with ALL of it, but enough that she wouldn’t freak out if a member of the Pack showed up, or if he got called out to help them in the middle of the night. As Stiles was still mostly human himself, Emissary training notwithstanding, they tried to avoid calling him out as he was still squishy. He could hold his own in a fight, but now that his Dad was facing a medical retirement due an improperly healed comminuted leg fracture, they all were trying to help him keep the Sheriff’s stress level down but keeping his only son out of harms way. 

The ironic thing from that incident was that it also revealed his heart was stronger and healthier than a man 10 years younger than him. Which of course the Sheriff mentioned anytime Stiles gave him the stink eye for have a steak more than every once in a while.

Derek’s gentle nudge apparently sparked a deep simmering anger that he’d pretty successfully buried, the source of which Derek couldn’t quite pin point. Turning his attention to Lydia, they put their heads together to figure out how the Dearg-due even arrived in Beacon Hill in the first place, and whether it was going to be a problem going forward. After several hours with the Hale Bestiary as well as the translated one from the Argents, they were comfortable declaring that the incident from a few nights ago was likely a one off, but an increase in the patrols through the Preserve wouldn’t be a bad idea either. Just to remember to carry a much sharper weapon next time. It had been several hours and a lot of research holes to fall in, but they called it a job well done. Escorting Lydia back to the elevator, they made plans for the pack to come over for movie night. There was actually a day that Lydia WASN’T going to be staying in with Jordan. 

Sliding the door closed behind him, looking at the clock, it was a quarter past eleven. Making himself a sandwich, Derek went over to the couch and grabbed the latest novel he was supposed to be editing. The publishers he worked for where trying to open up and expand the different authors they represented, as a way of bringing in new talent while working with those that brought in the big money. Derek edited for both groups. The novel he was going through right now though...it was in a word...horrible. The plot made no sense. What should have been the obvious queer pairing never came to fruition. Random love interests popped up, and a whole host of cringe worth moments appeared. He was supposed to edit this, and provide feedback on how to make it more marketable. A garbage can, gasoline and fire were all that came to mind. Given his history with those last two items...that was saying something. 

Looking up at the door, he felt a frown cross his face. Setting his reading glasses down, as well as the dreck he was supposed to be working on, he opened the door and was surprised to see a crestfallen Stiles standing there, gripping two garbage bags, and his laptop bag over his shoulder. 

“Can I come in?” His voice barely above a whisper. 

Derek could smell the defeat on him, the tears that had since dried, the tension in his body and the overwhelming sense of despair. The wolf inside him was whining at the wrongness of Stiles smelling so upset. He’d rationalize it that he’d observe that about any of the Pack, but even he doubted he’d notice THAT much on the others. Reaching out and taking the bags, he tossed them towards the laundry area. He also could smell the dirty was mixed with the clean so the whole lot would need to be cleaned. 

Pulling Stiles into the loft, he wrapped his arms around his friend as he had done so many times before, and gave his temple a small huffing kiss, as he’d do with any of his friends he cared about.

“I’m sorry Stiles.”

That was all he said. Nothing like, ‘I told you so,’ or anything to make Stiles feel worse than he already did. There was no point. This was his friend who was hurting, and Derek had evolved since they first met. He was a lot more willing to be compassionate to those in the Pack than he had been. People outside of the Pack, not so much. Unless they were children. He had a soft spot for children. Guiding his friend over to the couch, he helped Stiles to sit, and he wrapped a warm blanket around him. A gift from Kira from her last trip to Japan. It still had a bit of the ozone scent of electricity from the Kitsune.

“I don’t understand. She...she was understanding about the werewolves and the banshees and the Hellhounds. She seemed to nod an accept everything. But when I told her about the Nogitsune...what I...IT...did while it was possessing me.”

Stiles stifled a sob.

“She jumped away from me like I was still possessed. Like I’d been waiting to hurt her. She said I was broken. That I didn’t know from love and...”

Derek let out a small sub vocal growl at that. He’d personally spent a LOT of money for therapists who were adept at dealing with the supernatural to help Stiles get BACK to the point where he felt like he was worthy of accepting another’s feelings. To see it get unravelled so quickly was distressing to him. For her to be able to do that in so short a time also showed Derek exactly how into her Stiles was.

“Maybe she’s right Derek. Maybe I am too broken to love.”

Derek shook his head, not trusting his voice just yet.

“I don’t believe that Stiles. I don’t. And I’m sorry for saying this but that was a bitch move on her part to say that to you. You deserve so much better than that.”

Sniffling slightly, he gave a watery sigh. Wiping his eyes, he looked over at Derek, not believing it in the least. That was okay. Stiles had been patient convincing him he was worthy of having a life and friends and a Pack. He could do the same in return. 

“Can I stay here? Dad’s having Melissa over for dinner and I just...can’t be around the happy couple right now.”

Derek nodded his head.

“Of course. My home is your home. Half your stuff is here anyway.”

Stiles had unofficially moved out of his Dad’s house about a year ago, though he had a couple changes of clothes there, his bedroom, and one of his uniforms just in case he stayed over on a work night. 

“Thanks Der.”

“Any time.”

It took very little time for them to retreat to their own rooms for the night. Derek was settling in under his covers, when he heard Stiles crying softly into his pillow in the room right next to his. Feeling his stomach clench in anger, he had half a mind to go and just end Tina right now. Turning on his iPod, he flicked it on random to calm his mind. He didn’t even look up when his bedroom door opened. Without saying a word, he just lifted the blankets and let Stiles curl up next to him, back to back. 

“You better not snore.”

It was an old joke, but it got a weak laugh. Tonight? Tonight he’d take a weak laugh. 

Staring up at the ceiling as the playlist went on, Derek listened intently to Stiles’ heartbeat, hearing as it slowed to its sleeping heart rate. Rolling over just slightly so he could see his friend, he felt a vice like feeling in his chest at the drying tear tracks on Stiles’ face. The unsettling sensation he’d grown to ignore flared up in such a way that he was a little surprised. Chastising himself for the momentary lack of internal restraint, he rolled back over to face away from Stiles.

‘He just broke up with someone he’s been seeing for over a year. It would be unfair to him, and unfair to yourself,’ he admonished himself. Settling in to his pillow, pretty certain he’d have a fairly restless night, he sighed as the next song came on.

_Where do you go with your broken heart in tow_  
_What do you do with the left over you_  
_And how do you know when to let go_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

_Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive_  
_Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go_  
_Look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love_  
_Look me in the heart and un-break broken, it won't happen_

_It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be_  
_Real happy and healthy, strong and calm_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

Feeling his eyes get heavier and heavier, he let sleep pull him under as the song continued in the background.

***

Time passed, as it so often does. The steady progression of days turned in to weeks, weeks turned to months, and somewhere along the line Derek had gone to Tina’s apartment and retrieved the last items that Stiles hadn’t been able to take when they broke up. He patted himself on the back for not throwing the person who utterly decimated his friend’s heart head first out the bathroom window.

Progress!

At some point, Stiles had retrieved the last of his things from his Dad’s house and moved them into the loft he was sharing with Derek. He was annoyed of course that Derek wouldn’t accept rent money from him, so as a result, Stiles insisted on the grocery shopping and after Derek had almost set a pancake on fire, he also took over the cooking duties. Melissa had moved in with his Dad, who had finally retired, and Stiles continued to work for the FBI in the cyber-security division. Derek had successfully finished editing the book that made him want to cry for how poorly the plot was linked through each section, but he did it. He was taking a break from that for a while.

They had fallen into a comfortable pattern, the heartbreak decreasing more and more each day. The melancholy was starting to lift, and Stiles’ scent was becoming sharper. Not necessarily much happier, but these things took time. Stiles was actually leaving the loft to go out with Scott and Lydia. Jordan when he wasn’t working would sometimes make an appearance with them. A few times they’d even managed to convince Derek to join them at Jungle. Standing at the table they always commandeered when they came in, Derek watched as Stiles threw himself into the music, and lived the epitome of “Dance like no-one’s watching.” Derek found himself growling a little if someone was getting too handsy with Stiles, which drew an intrigued look from Scott, a raised eyebrow from Lydia and a knowing look from Jordan. He ignored them all.

It didn’t happen often, but sometimes he could see Stiles get rigid if he felt someone getting too close. While Stiles was always an enthusiastic dancer, he didn’t just dance with anyone. Derek, Lydia, even Jordan could get away with it, as it helped him deflect unwanted attention. Sometimes though, someone wouldn’t take the hint, despite him being practically plastered to Stiles’ back, and he’d had to flash his eyes just a little to get the person to back off. 

Derek always chastised himself for getting too into it, trying to remember that Stiles wasn’t ready for him to say anything. He may never be. He had to make himself content with whatever relationship he could have with Stiles, even if it wasn’t the romantic one he wanted. 

Stiles still shared his bed 5 nights out of the week. No funny business under the covers, though Derek had to teach himself a whole suite of mental exercises to keep his erection down when he’d wake up spooning Stiles. Once or twice he’d been the little spoon and had woken up with some unintended acupressure being applied to his leg.

If he thought about it while attending to certain things in the shower later on, no-one needed to know.

Watching now though, as Stiles made breakfast, he looked back down at the paper. The music player that was connected to the sound system Stiles had insisted on installing in the loft went through it’s random mix, filling the comfortable void where unnecessary conversation would likely have dwelled. 

Glancing up, he could have sworn he saw Stiles avert his eyes, mouth moving along with the words of the song.

_Where do you go when you're in love and the world knows_  
_How do you live so happily while I am sad and broken down_  
_What do you say, it's up for grabs_  
_Now that you're on your way down_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

Seeing a small blush rise on Stiles’ cheeks, he felt an eyebrow twitch a little while Stiles continued his lip sync battle with the French toast he was making.

_Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive_  
_Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go_  
_Look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love_  
_Look me in the heart and un-break broken, it won't happen_

_It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be_  
_Real happy and healthy, strong and calm_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

Keeping his attention focussed on the newspaper in front of him, trying to ignore the little shimmy in Stiles’ step as he finished singing along to the song, plating their breakfast and setting the table. The smell of French toast and bacon overrode his interest in the article that seemed to be pointing to an unseasonably warm summer coming up. Shuffling over to the table, he sat down at his customary place at the head of the table, but waiting for Stiles to come to the table before he started eating. When they were eating with the Pack, it was customary for him to start eating first as he was the Alpha here now. 

Or here again. 

It honestly depended on who you asked.

Looking around the table, he realized he didn’t grab his coffee. His attempt to get to his feet was halted by a strong warm hand on his shoulder.

“Just be patient. The coffee maker is out of commission so I have to let the French press do it’s thing for a few more minutes.” Stiles kissed Derek’s cheek and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

Derek shivered just slightly at the casual intimacy of the kiss on his cheek and the grabbing of the back of his neck. When he did it, it was a less than subtle way of scenting the others. But the chemosignals he was picking up from Stiles told him it was a shade more than casual scenting. Watching as Stiles sat down, as though perfectly in sync, they cut into their French toast and took a bite at the same time. Feeling his eyes fluttering shut just slightly at the perfect balance, he said with a dozey grin.

“I want more.”

Hearing Stiles press the plunger on the coffee, he felt his heart flip at the whispered response.

“So do I...”

***

It should have been awkward, spanning the gap from friends to dating, but for both Derek and Stiles it seemed to be as natural as breathing. After their fateful breakfast a few weeks back, they found that things were even easier. Neither of them policed their actions or affections with each other. Tended kisses had taken the place of tentative touching. They moved together as one beneath the covers, mumbling each other’s names in gasping benedictions as though they’d found a new religion in each other’s arms. There were times when their love making was so hard and intense they had broken the bed frame and Derek’s claws gouged out the wood of his headboard. Those times were usually on the tail end of the monster of the week where one or both of them almost died. One time, in the heat of passion, while Derek was moving so slowly in Stiles from beneath, that Stiles leaned over and from nowhere bit Derek on the throat and neck hard enough to draw blood with his dull human teeth. Instead of a shock of pain, a bolt of lightening felt like it moved from his neck to his groin, and he came immediately with a hoarse shuddering groan.

The wound healed, but the scar remained. A mating bite, as it turned out. Derek returned the favour when they had traded positions after he had regained his composure. The next day during the Pack meeting, even the non-Were’s crinkled their nose with the linger smell of sex in the air. Neither Stiles nor Derek could bring themselves to be embarrassed by it. Things weren’t perfect for them, nothing ever was, but in the imperfections they found their pace and found their peace with each other. Derek worshipped Stiles’ keen mind as much as he worshipped his body, drawing a blush that, in one instance literally went from head to toe.

Gasping in Stiles ear, he growled lowly at Stiles’ arguing that he wasn’t anything special. 

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,” he whispered as he proceeded to slowly take him apart with lips and tongue.

That isn’t to say they didn’t have their share of obstacles. 

He’d run into Tina at the store, his mating mark and not a few hickeys poking up over his collar. After trying to be polite with her, asking how she was doing, she pointedly and loudly called out his scar and the hickeys.

“And who’d be desperate enough to pick up a broken boy like you.”

Shifting a little, either in anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell, he sighed and simply said, “Derek.”

Rolling her eyes.

“And what would an Adonis like him want with a runt like you? Pity lay? He’ll get bored with you and get rid of you as soon as he wakes up.”

Turning on her foot she marched out of the store. Ignoring the pressure building behind his eyes, he finished the grocery shopping and returned home.

Stiles returned home from the store with their canvas shopping bags filled to near bursting, with a hurt look on his face. Sliding the door open, he made note of what song was playing over the sound system. Setting the bags on the counter, he wasn’t surprised that Derek was on him like, well, a werewolf on his mate. A worried look in Derek’s eyes was all it took for the tears to crest and pour unashamedly down his cheeks. Crying harder as Derek kissed each tear from his face, pecking at his lips, and nuzzling at the crook of his neck, he pulled back and looked Derek in the eyes. 

Singing along with the song, Stiles repeats in a broken voice.

“ _Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive_  
“ _Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go_  
“ _Look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love_  
“ _Look me in the heart and un-break broken, it won't happen_ ”

“Stiles, what happened?”

 _It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be_  
_Real, happy and healthy, strong and calm_ ,  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

“I ran into Tina at the store. She...implied some things. Said some things.”

_It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be_  
_Real, happy and healthy, strong and calm,_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

“That you’d...that you’d get over me and drop me...”

Stiles buried his eyes in the palms of his hands, scrubbing them until he saw stars. When he opened his eyes, he was worried more than anything he’d see either pity in Derek’s eyes. Or agreement.

_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_  
_Where does the good go_

What he didn’t expect was sadness, with the touch of self loathing that had been the werewolf’s trademark expression for ages.

“I’m sorry, if I’ve ever given you reason to doubt how much you mean to me Stiles. But for me, you’re it.”

_Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive (where does the good go?) _  
_Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go (where does the good go?) _____

____“You’re home to me. I love you. And you’re it for me. There’s no one else who could leave this mark on me,” he traced the scars on his own throat. “I’m yours.”_ _ _ _

____“And I’m yours.”_ _ _ _

____Wrapping each other up in their arms, they let their emotions flow out of them, until they felt drained enough to rebuild._ _ _ _

_____Look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love (where does the good go?)_  
_Look me in the heart and un-break broken, it won't happen (where does the good go?)_ _ _ _ _

____Weeks later, when they were walking down the sidewalk hand in hand, Stiles looked up and saw Tina walking towards them. Giving Derek’s hand a squeeze, he squeezed back in support._ _ _ _

____She stopped right in front of them and opened her mouth to speak. Stiles, always being quick on the draw where speaking was concerned, cut her off._ _ _ _

____“Tina...I hope you find what you’re looking for, and try to find help to take care of whatever is eating at you. It isn’t healthy. It isn’t good. And in this town it could be something that gets you hurt or killed. Take care of yourself.”_ _ _ _

____To Derek’s trained ears, he felt the sincerity in those words. She didn’t reply. Didn’t respond. Just watched as they walked down the street, perfectly content in their own little world._ _ _ _

_____Where does the good go?_ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. I live for comments. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
